A letter to my daughter: When you see me crying, it’s not you

My sweet girl,

We’ve discussed “the sickness.” We’ve played games of counting how many steps equates to standing six feet from the wall. We’ve had fun choosing fabric for your special masks that help you avoid passing “the sickness” to someone else.

I’ve lovingly looked you in the eyes and told you that “the sickness” is why we cannot see your best friends, hangout with your grandparents, climb and jump on the playground, or go to the store on a Sunday afternoon to get pink nail polish and a new LOL Doll.

We’ve been over singing fun songs that span at least 20 seconds and bought “cool soap” to help remind you to wash your hands.

We even joked about “the sickness” foolishly thinking that it’s only temporary. The joke is on us: it is a lot more permanent than we thought, and my soul is in mourning as I face the grief that comes with understanding that we need to settle in for the long haul.

2 thoughts on “A letter to my daughter: When you see me crying, it’s not you

  1. Well said. I think a lot of people are struggling during this time. I couldn’t imagine being a parent through this, but so many are and are adapting. There’s no right way to go about it, its uncertain for everyone. But from reading this I can tell you care so much and you’re doing a great job. 👏👏👏

    Liked by 2 people

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